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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24083872">Changes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anorptron/pseuds/Anorptron'>Anorptron</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Tron - All Media Types, Tron: Uprising</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Personal Growth, Scars, no betas we die like men</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 21:40:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,660</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24083872</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anorptron/pseuds/Anorptron</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Beck does the one thing he swore he never would, in front of a lot of people, and doesn't feel that bad about it.</p>
<p>(aka, Beck grows into his role as the renegade and does what has to be done)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Beck &amp; Mara &amp; Zed (Tron), Beck &amp; Tron (Tron), Mara/Zed (Tron)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>66</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Changes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnglishLanguage/gifts">EnglishLanguage</a>.</li>


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23691478">Wired</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnglishLanguage/pseuds/EnglishLanguage">EnglishLanguage</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>im sick of looking at this fic in my drafts, even though it's only been there for like a week and a half. I'm also never writing a fight scene again, it's literally the last thing i wrote out of all of this.</p>
<p>This was based off of englishlanguages fic "Wired", specifically the line about how Beck's disc does have derezolution privileges.</p>
<p> "“You’re a good program, Beck. I know you wouldn’t hurt anyone.” </p>
<p>That’s… not exactly true.</p>
<p>“You literally couldn’t hurt anyone, if we’re being completely accurate here. It’s not like mechanics get deresolution permissions, and you’re not stupid enough to hack your disc.”"</p>
<p>You can find the fic here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23691478</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The mili starts as it should: engines grumbling to life, voices clambering over each other, and very little work actually being done. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s one of the rarer mili’s, one where Beck’s actually at work and not gallivanting around in the Tron suit. Tron had been nice enough to give him a few days off, give him time to rest, and start to recover from his near-breakdown a triple ago.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only problem is, he doesn’t feel safe like he does at the Spire. Here, at the garage, it’s almost impossible to classify the danger. It’s too open of an area, occupation soldiers are common sights, there’s too many eyes on him to escape anything unnoticed. Especially now that Mara and Zed have been watching him, worried and afraid for him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thought is bitter enough that he grimaces, he hopes one cycle he’ll be able to tell them the truth, explain his bad reactions, apologize for all the doubles Zed has had to pull, and finally be able to just hang out. But he knows in his code, that that’s a very distant future. There’s too much to lose now, they’re not ready to know the truth, nor are they ready to follow the Renegade completely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A frustrated grunt escapes him and his head falls against the metal of the bike. “Why can’t anything ever be easy?” On instinct, his body tenses as footsteps near him, his eyes flick to the side and he can see Mara and Zed in the reflection of the light cycle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Having problems with the bike?” It’s Mara who asks, ignoring his space and crouching down beside him, shoulder touching his own.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm?” He lifts his head. “Nah, with this little thing-” He flips Bodhi’s recoder. “-everything’s a breeze.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Never understood why he wouldn’t make more of those.” Zed grumbles, plopping down beside them, leaning against the bike.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He rolls his eyes, “You could always make your own.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zed snorts, stretching out his legs. “Please, don’t you remember what we did to the lift? I’d break the original trying to copy it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey!” Zed protests when Mara swats at him. “It was an accident.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, but I had to end up fixing it!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck let’s their bicker fade out of his immediate focus and looks over to the front of the garage; something doesn’t feel right.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The thought churns in the forefront of his mind. He doesn’t know what’s causing it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck looks around, there’s no occupation soldiers to cause his unease, no immediate signs of wrongness, no face that doesn’t belong.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes meet Able’s from across the garage, and something must show on his face, for Able loses his smile, and something far more serious sets in, and he nods before disappearing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“-ck, Beck!” In an instant, he’s shot back into their conversation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mara’s brow furrows and Zed has gotten up. “You just like- completely zoned out. We’ve been trying to get your attention for a good 50 nanos; it’s like you couldn’t hear us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s mostly correct, if he absolutely needed to, he could bring up the conversation, at least one small part had been keeping track, but even now, most of his attention is on his surroundings. “Sorry- I thought I saw the new Polarizer-19.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zed rolls his eyes. “That bike’s one of a kind, there’s not a chance it would be here. Some lucky program probably has it in Tron City.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mara doesn’t seem keen to let the subject drop, if the look on her face says anything. Her hand takes his in hand. “Did you talk to someone?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s jarring, to see such a serious look on both of their faces, they were never supposed to have to worry about him like this. “I did.” He gives her hand a gentle squeeze. “We handled it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her shoulders slump. “Thank the Users, you had us worried.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry.” He says quietly. “Everythings just been...alot.” The vulnerability feels wrong, like he shouldn’t be telling them this, he shouldn’t be exposing himself. His core aches for the past, when he wasn’t hesitant, wasn't always holding back; aches for the safety he felt everywhere, whereas now he only feels it in the confines of the hideout.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d have to be blind to not see the curiosity in Zed’s eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does it have to do with where you are all the time?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Zed…” Mara groans. “We weren’t gonna pry, remember?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He lifts his hands in surrender. “I’m just saying, maybe whatever he’s doing is making it worse.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s fine, Mara.” Beck gives her a small, tense smile, deliberately not answering Zed’s question.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Beck!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He rises slightly, looking towards Able. “Yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Able’s heading towards them, datapad in hand, waving it at him. “Need you to go receive a delivery.”  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tron’s on his way.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His brow furrows slightly, and he opens his mouth to respond but then, at the very edge of his vision, there’s a glaring white light, and before his thought’s fully comprehended, he’s already thrown his disc-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“ABLE!” A few scream-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck’s disc knocks the other off its path and to the ground, catching his own easily as he searches for the threat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There he is.” A cold, hysterical voice says softly and Beck freezes midstep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cyrus.” Hate seeps in his voice as he ignites his disc.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cyrus laughs as he comes in view, head and fingers twitching. “Long time no see, </span>
  <em>
    <span>old friend.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can’t stop the snarl on his face. “How dare you come here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If I can’t get Tron, I’ll get the other, the one who built my </span>
  <em>
    <span>prison</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck can hear the murmuring, can feel the stares as he steps forward so Cyrus is directly across from him. “I won’t let you hurt him.” </span>
  <strike>
    <span>(There’s hands on his arms, trying to pull him back.)</span>
  </strike>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then Able’s there, not taking his eyes off Cyrus as he pulls Mara and Zed back, ignoring their protest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a giddiness to Cyrus’s voice. “So naive. I’m not going to hurt him, mechanic.” The circuits on his face glow a bright white as he twitches. “I came to do far worse than that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a rumbling in his chest as he sneers, lunging for Cyrus. “I’ll derez you with my bare hands before you touch him!” He aims his disc for the throat and Cyrus parries it, swinging for his arm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He ducks then jabs for Cyrus’s side. Cyrus takes advantage of the opening, forcing his disc away, twisting his arm and shoves him back. “Finally! Some fight! Some vigor! What a shame he isn’t here to see me kill his little failure!” Cyrus grins.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck catches himself and braces for another attack. “No.” He says firmly. “You’re his only failure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The grin drops from the program's face and he lunges. Beck rolls. Pops up, twists on his back leg, and throws his disc. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It ricochets back to him when Cyrus deflects and throws his own back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before Cyrus would have had the advantage, but he’s on Beck’s home turf, and now, Beck’s been training under Tron longer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck settles into a low crouch, letting the disc fly over his head, and uses that moment to launch his own attack. He swings high with his disc, and when Cyrus goes to block it, he lets go, catching it with his other hand, forcing Cyrus to jump back to avoid the disc. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shoves Cyrus back as the disc comes flying past. The moment it’s in Cyrus’s hands, he lunges forward, gunning for Beck’s throat. “I deserve to be him. Not </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” He snarls, slamming his knee into Beck’s chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck gasps and grabs the knee, lifting Cyrus as he twists and slams him into the ground. “You’re deranged!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cyrus uses his other leg to jam it into Beck’s chest, uses the same nano to shove him off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck rolls, skids back, and then Cyrus is on top of him, disc coming down on his chest. It meets Beck’s disc an inch away from his face and he presses up against Cyrus’s disc. “He should’ve just derezzed you!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But he didn’t!” Cyrus doubles down on the force against Beck’s disc. “He was weak! Just like you!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck swings his leg over Cyrus’s and flips them, using Cyrus’s momentary discombobulated to back away from the program.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cyrus is up again, dodges Beck’s disc and throws his own, anticipating Beck’s next move, he meets him there, grabs his arm and slams him into the hood of a bike, and something </span>
  <em>
    <span>snaps.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck knows something happened, but he can’t feel it, so when Cyrus lets go, he uses the same arm to elbow him in the face and allows himself to feel smug when he hears a hiss of pain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck readies himself again, and this time, it’s Cyrus who lunges and throws his disc.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The difference this time is, Beck doesn’t stop running towards him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A nano later, everything seems to slow, all sound seems to fade except the high pitched whirr of the disc’s. He has an opening.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck takes one more step before falling to his knees, sliding, letting the disc come closer, and then, like he had seen Tron do, he jabs his arm into the hole in the disc. In a fluid motion he lowers his arm, lets the disc slip off his wrist, and grips it tightly. He recognizes surprise overcoming Cyrus’s face, but it’s not there for long, for less than a nano later, his own disc is jabbed in Cyrus’s torso.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Laughter is the first real noise his audio processors pick up on, and he looks up, meeting Cyrus’s gaze. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even as the fractures spread over Cyrus’s body, and voxels drop to the ground, the first renegade manages to speak, just loud enough for Beck to hear. “What will your friends think of you now, little renegade?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stone-faced, Beck jerks his disc out of Cyrus in response, and allows Cyrus to fall, shattering into cubes on impact.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He waits, searching for some kind of reaction from himself, but feels nothing. There is no guilt, no shame, no regret. He did what he had to do. </span>
  <span>(What he was forced to do.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wonders if it’s a bad thing. But he doesn’t wonder for long, a loud, familiar rumbling interrupts the dreadful silence of the garage.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck looks up, towards the entrance of the garage, and immediately recognizes the figure hurrying off the bike. “And you say </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m</span>
  </em>
  <span> always late.” He huffs, docking his disc.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s easy for him to spot Tron’s hesitation, a footstep coming just a nano too late. “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> always late.” The moment he’s close enough, he places a firm hand on his shoulder, tilting his head, scanning him for any injuries.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck doesn’t bother reassuring him that he’s fine -minus a few small fractures-, he knows Tron needs to scan him for his own comfort, and has no doubt that when they arrive at the Spire the first thing Tron will do is perform a more in-depth scan.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If he’s honest (and he rarely is these mili’s), the thought sparks warmth in him. He had never imagined he’d ever become important to Tron; and there’s no doubt he is. Tron’s never told him it aloud (he’d never admit it, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>yearns</span>
  </em>
  <span> for that acknowledgment), but he never fails to show it, in his own way. With a high access scan, keeping Beck’s preferred energy, letting him rest when it’s obvious he’s overwhelmed. “Cyrus came for Able.’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>see</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tron’s jaw clench, </span>
  <em>
    <span>see</span>
  </em>
  <span> the confusion as to </span>
  <em>
    <span>how</span>
  </em>
  <span> Beck knows about Cyrus.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His mentor doesn’t ask. “Is everyone unharmed?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck nods, surveying the garage, trying to take in everything that’s happened. There’s obvious horror on many of his coworker's faces, some staring at him in disbelief, but the worst is when he sees Mara and Zed. And he sees the genuine </span>
  <em>
    <span>fear</span>
  </em>
  <span> of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Able, of course, is the first of the mechanics to speak.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know I hate it when you bring your work here.” He grumbles, but there’s no mistaking the anxiety in his eyes as he nears the two of them. “I’ll handle the occupation, but the two of you have to go, if they catch you…” Able trails off, gesturing for Beck’s disc, and after a moment of hesitation, Beck hands it over.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck nods, watching Able mess with his disc. “Just send word when it’s safe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Able glances out the garage, and sees red slowly approaching; the occupation must have been notified of a derezzing. “Hurry.” He shoves the disc towards Beck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He takes it, and docks the disc. Beck’s circuits glow bright white before they disappear, overtaken with a pure black, then as the black settles, white dashes of circuits appear on each of his joints, and at the base of his throat there's his solid identification marker.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck can’t take the time to appreciate it, but he nods in thanks and takes off in a sprint, rezzing his light cycle below him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tron goes to follow but Able grabs his elbow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Take care of him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tron searches Able’s face, then gives a small nod and takes off after Beck.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Able, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>killed</span>
  </em>
  <span> him.” Mara’s the first one to speak, hands covering her mouth, horrified, staring at where one of her best friends killed a program.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well he did what he had to do, didn’t he?” Zed says, voice steady, but he’s unmistakenly shaken up. “He would have killed Able.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He would have,” Able agrees, “Cyrus was one of the most dangerous programs I’ve ever met.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...What did he mean when he said you built prison?” Link asks, and the others nod, looking to Able.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sighs. “I knew Cyrus when he wasn’t like that. But he grew dangerous, corrupted, and began to hurt programs instead of helping them. A good friend of mine had been mentoring him, and couldn’t bring himself to...permanently handle the problem.” He rubs his forehead, “So I built a one of a kind prison to try and contain him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s who showed up, isn’t it?” Mara says, “The mentor, it’s who left with Beck.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It is.” Able nods. “I called him just before Cyrus arrived.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How’d you know that Cyrus was coming?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t, Beck had a bad feeling.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How did Beck know how to fight like that? How was his disc able to derez him? Our discs don’t have the permissions.” Zed crosses his arms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Able looks over to him. “He wanted to find a way to protect both of you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He got his disc hacked to protect us?” Mara holds her hands close to her chest. “Is that why he’s always gone? He’s learning to fight?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Able wants to tell them. Wants them to know what their friend is going through and be able to help him when he struggles. But he can’t, that’s not his place, so instead he sighs. “Not exactly...Beck’s been having a hard time coping with what happened, so I introduced him to Cyrus’s old mentor, to try and help Beck adjust.” He holds up a hand to stop any more questions. “When the occupation gets here, none of you volunteer anything. Let me handle it.” He sees them nod and turns to the front of the garage where the occupation is arriving.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Paige is nearing them, guards flanking her. “What happened here?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A program tried to derez me.” Able offers readily, trying to show an easy compliance. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“His designation?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cyrus.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She nods, “I’m assuming he’s the one who’s cubes?” Paige gestures to the voxels.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’d be correct. One of my mechanics was able to subdue him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She looks up from the tablet at that. “Which one?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Able hesitates and purposely looks to the guards beside her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Paige considers what he wants then waves off the guards. “Clean up the mess.” Once they’re away, she looks back to him expectantly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Beck killed Cyrus.” He hears Mara and Zed gasp, but he pays it no mind, he knows what he’s doing. Able knows that Paige has feelings for Beck and vice versa.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And he’s right, Paige freezes. “Show me the fight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Able nods and takes off his disc before scrolling through his memory files and fast-forwarding to the fight. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She watches the hologram with rapt attention, wincing whenever Beck got slammed into the bike. “Looks like he remembered how to fight from the games.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mara jerks back and looks to Paige. “Beck was in the games?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Paige furrows her brow. “He wasn’t just </span>
  <em>
    <span>in</span>
  </em>
  <span> the games, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>won</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I’m assuming that’s why he was able to derez that program, the guards must have forgotten to take away the deresolution privileges.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mara goes pale and grips Zed’s hand. “He didn’t tell us.” She says softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Paige doesn’t comment, and stares at the tablet in her hand. It’s a long nano before something overtakes her face and she turns off the datapad. “As far as I’m concerned, this was a false report of a derezzing.” She looks to Able meaningfully. “If asked, a bike exploded and damaged the surrounding area enough to send out a false report.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Able almost lets his shoulders slump in relief. “Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She nods. “Tell Beck I can’t cover for him again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Paige turns to the guards, “Let’s go, there’s no information for us here.” And with that, she turns her back on the garage and leaves with her details.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank the Users.” Able mutters, letting his shoulders fall. “I’m going to check on Beck, you both should get some rest.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They all know none of them would be finding rest that downcycle.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Absolutely not.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tron, I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Beck rolls his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tron steers him towards the med bay. “You’re not fine till I say you're fine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck groans and plops down on the gurney. “And I thought Able was bad.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Able doesn’t have to be as thorough as I do.” Tron attaches the reader to Beck’s port and watches as Beck’s code appears on his tablet. “Are you in pain anywhere?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My shoulder.” He admits, resisting the urge to rub at it. “Cyrus slammed me into a bike.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His mentor hums, scrolling through the code till he gets to Beck’s shoulder. “It looks like he fractured it.” He scrolls down a little further, and his brow furrows, but a nano later it evens out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Show me your wrists.” His tone books no argument, and his gaze is piercing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck looks up, tense. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your wrists. Now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck holds them out to him, and Tron’s frown deepens. The monitor takes one of his wrists in hand, and clicks off the glamour, watching as the scorched code appears on Beck’s forearm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck watches Tron freeze, and has to look away, pulling his wrist out of Tron’s grip to hold it close.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tron says nothing for several nanos, and for the first time since Beck’s met him, his voice is almost gentle. “What happened?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck can’t look him in the eye. “Had to make a delivery run and took a detour. Ended up meeting Cyrus.” He hears Tron take an audible breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How long ago?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I dunno, back when you and Able went on that mission.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tron, thankfully, doesn’t press for more about that cycle. “Do they cause you any pain?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Some.” He admits, “But it’s manageable.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have they been treated at all?” Tron sighs when he sees Beck shake his head. “Why didn’t you tell me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck looks up at that, lips pressed in a thin line. “Do you really have to ask?” There’s a sick part of him that feels pleasure when Tron can’t look at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tron sighs. “I think it’s too late for a medic to be any help, I can see if there’s anything I can do with them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He rubs his neck, “Don’t worry about it, I’m used to them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tron levels him with a glare. “I’m not leaving you in pain if there’s something I can do.” Then softer, “I know what it’s like to have to carry scars everywhere.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Guilt blossoms in his gut, but he says nothing, instead he reactivates the glamour on them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your shoulder is going to be out of commission for at least the next seven triples.” Tron pulls up a hologram of Beck’s shoulder. “It’s barely staying together.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Great.” He lets his head fall back against the wall and closes his eyes, letting the exhaustion wash over him. He had almost lost Able, the program that has </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> been there. Who never failed to support him, even if he thought it was a bad idea. “You’d take care of Able, right? If I ever end up as cubes?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can’t see Tron, but he can feel his stare.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not going to let you derez, beta.” Then he hears a sigh. “But yes, I’ll keep an eye on him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Good</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Beck thinks, Tron could use a friend. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They let the conversation fade, the only sound coming from soft beeps as Tron interacts with his code to try and heal his shoulder. The sound is nice, comforting almost, there’s something in his code that allows him to feel safe here, lets him let down his guard with someone who could, in less than a nano, derez him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your scars are nothing to be ashamed of.” Tron’s voice is quiet, level, unassuming.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck almost doesn’t respond, sleep laden processors not computing fast enough. “Nothin to be proud of either.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I disagree.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hums in response, not truly listening as he begins powering down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tron sighs. “Rest. We’ll speak later.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And he does just that.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When he wakes, he’s covered with a thin cooling blanket, and the only light is coming through the doorway. He looks around, Tron isn’t in his chamber (Good. Both of them healing at the same time is too risky.) nor anywhere else in the room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a soft groan, he peels off the blanket and hops off the gurney, heading towards the main room. He wants to find Tron, make sure everything is okay, make sure the occupation hasn’t hurt any of the mechanics because of him, and a small part of him wants to make sure Tron’s okay from Cyrus being derezzed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You should be resting.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He jumps, handing jerking back for his disc, but then he hisses in pain. “Fraggit Tron, do you have to scare me every time?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tron doesn’t look worried, in fact he looks rather amused. “If you paid attention to your surroundings you wouldn’t be scared.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck shoves at him with his good arm. “I don’t have to be aware here; I got you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tron hums, but it’s nano too late to feel natural. “Why aren’t you asleep, we’re hardly through the first mili.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gives a half shrug, he doesn’t know why if he’s honest, but he can guess. “Stress, maybe, I’m not too sure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His mentor looks him over, for what Beck doesn’t know. “I’m not surprised, derezzing someone takes a lot out of anyone, least of all someone who’s done it for the first time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s the thing,” He looks towards the window. “I don’t feel that upset about it. I don’t feel guilty, or bitter, it was just something that I had to do and I do feel sad about it, but not like-” He flounders for a word, but lamely decides on: “</span>
  <em>
    <span>sad</span>
  </em>
  <span> sad, you know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d be lying if I thought you were going to take it this well.” Tron sighs. “It’s normal for you to feel that way, as security programs we are often faced with what we have to do, and what we want to do, it’s not easy, doing what has to be done, but many take comfort in the fact that we know we saved others. Of course, we regret there wasn’t another way, and that feeling will never change, but ultimately we have to do what will save the most lives.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck nods, looking at Tron through his reflection in the window. “What am I going to tell my friends? They already knew something was off with me, User’s Tron, they were </span>
  <em>
    <span>afraid</span>
  </em>
  <span> of me. How do I handle that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For the second time in the last triple, Tron places a hand on his good shoulder, </span>
  <em>
    <span>/calm</span>
  </em>
  <span>, “We can talk with Able to figure something to tell them, but there is no hiding you’re different now, Beck.” He pauses to formulate his thoughts. “I don’t think they’re afraid of you, exactly, they know and trust you, but they are afraid of the parts they’ve never seen before. They have to deal with what happened earlier before they can truly calm down and see things logically.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And if they are always afraid of me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then they don’t know you well enough.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck sighs, “Were your friends ever afraid of you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tron thinks back, “No. But then I’ve never had to work to change my function, everyone knew who I was and my purpose, there was no hiding it. You don’t have that luxury; you’re evolving at a faster rate than they are, and they haven’t been allowed to see your growth, I assume it’s overwhelming for them on some level.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck gives a small nod, but doesn’t respond, instead of looking out the window towards the city. Everything’s changed in such a small amount of time, </span>
  <em>
    <span>he’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> changed in so little time, in ways he had never imagined.</span>
</p>
<p><span>Sure he had looked up to Tron since his rez day, but he had never thought he’d meet him, nonetheless </span><em><span>be</span></em><span> the next Tron. He was never meant to be someone that important. How was he supposed to become someone so dedicated, so strong, so</span> <span>fearless? He’s just a mechanic trying his best.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you thinking?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck glances up, Tron’s head is tilted slightly, his frown just a smidge deeper than usual. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vulnerability seizes him, grips his core. “Just-”, He holds his wrist tight. “How weird my runtime has been.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tron’s lips twitches up.  “You’re not even out of beta, you still have your entire runtime ahead of you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Assuming Clu doesn’t derez us all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, assuming that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s not funny, but it makes him laugh and then he shakes his head. “Users, you’re gonna be the death of me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tron takes his hand off his shoulder, “You should rest, you can finish your overthinking when you wake.” He says dryly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck smiles slightly, “You should get some rest too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You sure you feel safe enough for that?” His mentor raises a brow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shrugs, “You’re here, there’s no safer place to be.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a weird look on Tron’s face, but the monitor just nods and looks to the computer hidden in the window.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck watches him flick through some settings, and then the main window goes dark, and he assumes the entrances to the base have been locked as well. It’s a new function, one he hasn’t ever seen Tron use before. “When did you add a lockdown mode?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not too long ago.” He answers vaguely, “Wake me if you have to leave,” He looks over to him. “Try not to need to, you need to let your body heal.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He rolls his eyes. “You got it system monitor, sir.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tron lets out a low laugh and shakes his head. “Go to sleep, Beck.” With that, he lowers the brightness of the lights in the hideout and heads for the chamber, trusting that Beck is following behind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once Beck enters, Tron locks the door behind them, then steps into the chamber, almost letting a sigh of relief leave him. Seeing Beck lay down, he allows himself to close his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know, what you said earlier, about my scars, that applies to you too. They don’t make you less of who you were before you got them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tron startles at being read so easily. He wants to deny it, but he’s supposed to be teaching Beck how to live with them, it wouldn’t do any good. Hesitantly, he replies: “I know that, at least in theory. You know as well as I do, it’s different in practice.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck lifts his head a little to see over the gurney. “If it makes you feel better, even with the scars, you’re cooler than I ever imagined you would be.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And for some reason, it does. “And you’re more annoying than I ever thought was possible.” He says wryly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck snorts and lets his head fall on the pillow. “Please, you haven’t even seen me at peak annoyance. I’m surprised Able put up with me for this long.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Tron’s not. “If you truly are surprised, then you don’t know Able very well, even before you, he was always inexplicably fond of you betas. Users, he just about tore my head off when he found out I was training you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck perks up at that. “Wait really? What happened?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Never in his runtime did he think he’d be telling a beta what’s essentially a bedtime story, but then, more surprisingly, he finds he doesn’t mind.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>“How is he?” Able asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Surprisingly fine,” Tron answers, keeping his voice low despite the fact that he’s in the other room. “Mostly worried about what his friends think of him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Zed’s taking it better than Mara,” Tron can almost see Able rubbing his forehead.  “Mara’s pretty upset about it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tron nods. “If they don’t react well, Beck’s not going to be okay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You think I don’t know that? Users Tron, I raised the boy.” Able sighs. “Sorry, I’m just stressed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We all are.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I'll see if I can talk to Mara and make sure she’s okay. But don’t be surprised if this doesn’t go well.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m never surprised.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure.” Able deadpans, then hangs up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s only nanos later that Tron can hear the door to the medbay open, and light footsteps echo around the room, it startles awareness into him, reminding him that his scars are completely open to the grid, or more realistically, to Beck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t like how the vulnerability seizes him, tightens his posture, claims his voice, how it's corrupting every bit of pride he carries. Tron itches to reach behind him and activate the glamor, but to do so would be to teach Beck to hide his scars, and that’s not what he wants.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So instead, he takes a steadying breath, forces himself to uncurl his fist. “Rest well?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck yawns, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I swear though, I need an actual room with how often I stay here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tron...doesn’t mind that idea. “You’re free to code yourself one, if you’d like.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looks up to him, “Really?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tron nods, “Build it somewhere away from the entrances.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can’t be too much different than building a bike.” Beck gives Tron a crooked grin. “I’ll try not to destroy the base.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please do.” He watches Beck turn around, head off to pick a place to code a room, and then the renegade turns back to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh. I meant to ask, you know the suit Able gave me the other mili?” He waits for tron to nod before continuing. “Think you could make it into actual armor? I kinda like it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tron considers it. “I can take a look at it. You could do with a stealth suit anyhow.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks.” He takes off his disc and throws it up to Tron, “Yell if you need me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doubts he will, but Tron nods regardless, already opening up Beck’s disc to download the armor into the computer system. He has an idea for the suit, one the Beck will hopefully appreciate. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Beck finishes the room three triple later. Since he started, the hideout has been the opposite of quiet. It was filled with loud booms, random thumps, and a lot of not so quiet cursings. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In short: It’s the most annoyed Tron’s ever been.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There has not been a lick of quiet, in fact, Tron’s taken to staying up past when Beck’s asleep just for some peace.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On the other side of the coin, it’s also the warmest he’s felt since before the coup. Beck’s loud in everything he does, including his affection. Beck’s all tactile interaction and crooked grins; all things Tron used to be. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck doesn’t hesitate to tease, or to playfully shove him, or to tell him off. Not overly respectful, but always acting out of care.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tron chooses that cycle to give Beck the updated suit. “It should feel more like the Whites now, but a little lighter, I meant for it to be a stealth suit so I sacrificed some armor plating for less of a drag.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The mechanic grins and grabs it from him, plugging the download into his disc before reattaching it. The black once more overtakes his body, and it’s heavier than the one Able made, more sharp edges and rough material, but less so than his usual garb. Three white lines appear on each of his fingers, one on each joint, and then at the base of his throat, instead of a single white line, there’s Tron’s symbol. “I look like a badass.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tron gives him a long-suffering sigh. “Naturally that’s the first thing that comes to your mind.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You really shouldn’t be surprised at this point,” Beck elbows him. “I mean, at least one of us has to look cool.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He raises a brow, and Beck laughs, skirting out of Tron’s reach and back into the newly built room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Betas.” He grumbles to himself with a sigh, but there’s no denying the fond warmness blossoming in his core. But there’s no admitting it either. He has his pride after all.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He’s nervous, even with knowing Tron is somewhere around, ready to intervene the moment Beck gives him a signal. He almost wants to signal now, to leave and try again some other time, but he can’t. Tron would think him a coward, glitch it, </span>
  <em>
    <span>he’d</span>
  </em>
  <span> think he’s a coward. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But knowing that doesn’t stop the urge, or the adrenaline pumping through his circuits, ready to burst. His core is ticking at a pace far from normal, every cube of his body is telling him to </span>
  <em>
    <span>run</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Beck!” A body slams into him and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>startles</span>
  </em>
  <span>, slipping out of the hold, he uses his foot to swipe at his attackers and settles into a crouch, hand reaching for his disc.  He can feel Tron’s presence near him; warm and solid.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>told</span>
  </em>
  <span> you not to do that.” Zed grumbles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mara blushes, but it doesn’t completely hide the fear that flickers in her eyes. “Sorry Beck, I’ve been worried about you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s jarring, takes him a second to catch up to the fact that he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> being attacked, that it’s just his friends checking on him. “Nah, don’t be sorry.” He drops his hand and rises, “Just been on edge since..” He trails off. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She pulls him close. “Figures. Are you okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nods into her and hugs her back for a nano. “I’m fine, what about you two?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Mara lets go, Zed slings an arm around his shoulders, “Been awesome, I've got to brag about you for the last 8 triples, really helps with the girls at the club, y’know?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck snorts and gives him a light shove. “Shouldn’t I be the one benefitting, after all, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am</span>
  </em>
  <span> the hero.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, but I’m like, the really cool sidekick who makes you seem cooler than you actually are.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah,” He smiles. “My mistake.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zed grins back, “I agree.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mara rolls her eyes, “And still neither of you have a date.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey!” The protest in unison.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That was uncalled for.” Zed complains, pouting slightly for a few nanos before smiling again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s true.” She shoots back, then looks back up to Beck, taking his hand. “Why didn’t you tell us you were in the games?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck looks away, throat painfully tight, and the seriousness of the conversation weighs on his shoulders, causing them to slump. “It’s not really something I like to talk about.” He swallows. “It’s the worst thing any program could go through.” He doesn’t completely believe that he knows what Tron went through was worse, but Mara and Zed wouldn’t be able to imagine that level of cruelty, they had no idea the things that Clu did to programs behind closed doors.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We could have helped.” She says softly, “We’re your friends, Beck, we’re always here for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Guilt churns in his gut. “I know that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then why hide everything?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wants to fiddle with his hands, but Mara is holding one and the other is behind Zed. “I dunno, it just feels...easier to keep it to myself.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Easier to tell Tron, who won’t judge him for his actions than to risk a negative one.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not healthy though.” Beck shoots him a look and Zed raises a hand in defense. “What? I mean she’s right, Beck. You gotta trust someone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just not us.” She doesn’t say it harshly, but it feels like an accusation all the same.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not true,” He defends. “I do trust you. It’s just different now.”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What makes it so different that you can’t tell us when you almost got </span>
  <em>
    <span>derezzed</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck doesn’t have an answer, at least not one that would satisfy the widening distance between them, one that would heal over the mess he’s made.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She gives him a gentle smile and lets go of his hand. “It’s okay. You don’t have to answer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck wonders if the sharp, bursting pain in his chest is what abandonment feels like. “Mara-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll see you guys later, yeah?” And with that she walks away, leaving Beck speechless.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zed squeezes his shoulder and Beck doesn’t even register the pain from it. “Give her time, she’s still adjusting to what happened. She’ll come around.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And if she doesn’t?” Beck’s voice is hardly a whisper.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zed gives him a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Then at least you’ll always have me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck gives him a strained smile. “Thanks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His friend pats him on the back. “I gotta go check on her, I’ll stop by your room later, maybe me and you can go out for a little bit?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.” His voice doesn’t sound like his. “I’d like that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zed gives him another small smile before running off after Mara, and Beck swears he runs off with the last piece of his core he had left to give.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It was never going to be easy.” Tron says softly, hanging a few meters behind Beck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck holds his knee tighter. “Didn’t know it would be this hard.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’ll understand when you tell them, then they’ll realize you do trust them, but you were keeping them safe.” It’s odd for him to be the optimistic one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And when will that be?” Beck snaps, bitterness rising within him. “When Able’s dead? Or Mara? Or Zed? Or after I’m derezzed and they only find out because you tell them?” He curls his fists. “I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>tired</span>
  </em>
  <span> of watching my friends die.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then as quickly as it came, the bitterness leaves him, and he’s left remembering who he’s talking to. The program who has lost </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “I’m sorry. I’m just frustrated.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know.” Tron sits beside him, and he can see that Beck’s not hiding his scars. “They’ll find out when you and they are ready, whenever that maybe, I don’t doubt the three of you will be back to normal.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t know Mara.” Beck sighs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” Tron agrees. “But I know you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beck’s lips twitch up at that, and he takes a deep breath. “Okay.” He looks up to Tron. “Let’s get back to work.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He raises a brow. “Just like that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He has faith that eventually Mara and Zed will understand, they’ll see the truth. After all, Tron believed it. So for now, he can work on making the grid safer for them, so when they cycle comes and they’re ready for the truth, there’ll be a little less risk, and a little less work to do. “Just like that.”</span>
</p>
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